


Touch Me (Wake Me Up)

by waterofthemoon



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Ineffable Husbands Week 2019, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Morning Sex, One Shot, Sharing a Bed, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 19:22:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20569568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterofthemoon/pseuds/waterofthemoon
Summary: Lazy morning sex between two supernatural entities in love.





	Touch Me (Wake Me Up)

**Author's Note:**

> This is just basically the softest thing I could think of at the moment. Written for the [Ineffable Husbands Week](https://ineffablehusbandsweek.tumblr.com/post/186773188491/official-ineffable-husbands-week-prompts) day 4 prompt "touch."

As the morning light streams through the window, Aziraphale sets aside his book and spoons up behind Crowley.

He's still not good at shutting down for the night—he's never taken to the habit like Crowley has, and it's nice to have time to himself, when all the city around them is dark and quiet. Aziraphale's been out of bed half the night already, puttering around the bookshop and catching up on his correspondence. But he likes to be there when Crowley wakes, and so he always returns to his side before morning.

This morning, Aziraphale's in a bit of a mood, and he wiggles closer, wrapping an arm around Crowley's middle and stroking his bare chest. Kisses the back of his neck, nuzzles into the soft place behind his ear, the snake-charmed one. "Crowley, darling, wake up."

"Hnnngh? Oh, angel," Crowley murmurs. Aziraphale feels him tense upon waking and immediately relax when he realizes it's only Aziraphale. When he remembers he's safe.

"Darling," Aziraphale continues after a moment, when Crowley shows no further signs of consciousness. He rains kisses on Crowley's neck, his shoulder blade, the edge of his jaw when Crowley tilts to allow him access. "Dearest, sweetheart, my love, my—"

"Oh, bless it, fine, I'm awake," Crowley grouses. He turns in Aziraphale's arms and offers himself up for a proper kiss, which Aziraphale gladly takes from his mouth. "Mmmm. Hi."

"Good morning," Aziraphale says. He can't stop his questing hand from trailing up Crowley's jaw, into his hairline, through the fall of his rebellious bangs, not yet tamed. First thing in the morning, Crowley's sharp angles are creased and soft, his golden eyes lit up with the new day.

Their mouths meet a second time, and then a third—again and again until the kisses meld together and they're grinding against each other, until Aziraphale says, "Would you mind very much turning back around? Just the way you were, yes, that's perfect."

Crowley, who answered his request with nothing but acquiescence and a raised eyebrow, fits them together even closer than they were before. Only the thin layers of Crowley's little shorts and his pyjama bottoms separate them; Aziraphale banishes these inconveniences to the armchair with a hand sweeping along Crowley's hip. The bedclothes get thrown back the practical way, and then it's just the two of them, pressed flush together in the middle of the bed.

Aziraphale shifts so that his cock is wedged between Crowley's slim thighs and gives an experimental thrust. Later, he might see if Crowley's interested in being fucked properly, but this feels easier right now, gentler. "Is this all right?"

"Yesssss," Crowley says. He tightens his legs around Aziraphale, who gasps and rolls his hips forward at the sensation. "Just like this, please, Aziraphale."

He doesn't need to be told twice. Another miracle slicks Crowley's thighs, and Aziraphale ruts up into him, drawing moans out of them both. His mouth finds Crowley's neck again as he sets a slow, lazy pace.

"Oh, _Crowley_." Aziraphale skims his hand down Crowley's chest to wrap it around his cock and stroke, trying to match the rhythm. Crowley jerks and whines in his hold.

"Angel, angel, c'mon, it's so good—"

They rock together, Crowley meeting Aziraphale's thrusts as much as Aziraphale is pushing into him, and then Crowley spills over Aziraphale's hand with a whimper. Aziraphale's not far behind; he takes his pleasure between Crowley's thighs and comes all over him, to which Crowley lets out a deep sigh of satisfaction.

In the afterglow, Aziraphale waves away the mess and devotes his mouth to languid kisses in the crook of Crowley's shoulder. Crowley catches up Aziraphale's hand draped across his body and presses his lips to it, then says, "Aziraphale."

"Hmmm?"

"You woke me up just for sex," Crowley accuses. He sounds like he wants to pout about it but is too pleased to manage.

Aziraphale has to stop kissing in order to answer, which is such a waste. "Ah. Mmm, definitely, yes," he admits. "You were just so lovely, my dear. And I'm afraid the erotica I was reading rather put me in the mood."

Crowley laughs quietly and kisses Aziraphale's hand again. "That's my angel. Round two?"

"Well, if you insist," Aziraphale says, and rolls them so that they're facing each other and Crowley is beneath him, his beautiful eyes shining with admiration.

The rest of the morning spins out before them, lazy and content, as their mouths reunite and Aziraphale pushes Crowley down into their bed. He thinks that he could do this — touching Crowley, holding him, making him feel good — every day for the rest of their existence and never, ever tire of it. And if that's the case, he should probably continue right away.


End file.
